


Let Us Give Thanks

by ariedana



Category: Take That
Genre: Gen, Holidays, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariedana/pseuds/ariedana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys had never been in America during the holidays. Thus when they spend their first Thanksgiving together, trying to do it the traditional way definitely doesn't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Us Give Thanks

The five of them had shared hundreds, even thousands of meals together, all around the world. Sushi in Vegas, Indian in Amsterdam, and enough Chinese at various recording studios to feed most of the city of Manchester.  
  
Never had they ever cooked a dinner together, though. Much less a holiday dinner. But apparently, according to Jason’s research, that was half of the appeal of American Thanksgiving.  
  
“Their Thanksgiving dinners are a lot like our Christmas dinners, but the food is a little different,” Jason said. “No roast beef, but turkey, with something made from cornbread with it. But it has gravy. And a lot of different vegetables. Pumpkin pie is apparently a huge part of it.”  
  
Thus when the boys ended up in the US over the four-day Thanksgiving holiday, Gary persuaded them to take advantage of it and find a whole new holiday to celebrate. One that, unlike the Fourth of July, didn’t mean the natives had beaten the visitors’ countries in a bloody battle for Independence. But that comfort was taken away somewhat by Jason’s objections to the whole Thanksgiving story.  
  
“Thanksgiving comes from the Pilgrims giving thanks to the Native Americans for sharing their food with them to keep them from starving to death,” he said. “They didn’t mention that the Pilgrims went on to give the Native Americans all sorts of diseases that almost wiped them out. Or that they went on to steal their land and herd them onto reservations where they were treated like second-class citizens. Not much for the Native Americans to give thanks about, eh?”  
  
Howard rolled his eyes.  
  
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a real party pooper?” he asked.  
  
Jason actually looked hurt.  
  
“If you are going to celebrate something, it’s a good idea to know whether or not it’s something to actually celebrate, innt?” he said.  
  
Mark broke in before Howard could take the risk of offending Jason further.  
  
“I am a big fan of any occasion that involves pie,” he said.  
  
“And I’m a bigger fan of turkey,” Gary added. “I like the sound of this. But how are we going to manage it? Me hanging out with Jamie Oliver doesn’t make me a gourmet chef.”  
  
The others rolled their eyes at Gary’s unsubtle name-dropping and agreed to split up cooking duties.   
  
\---------------  
A week later, they were nestled into a cabin up in Yosemite National Forest, a nice alternative to Los Angeles, where seasons don’t exist. It wasn’t yet fully winter in the area, but luckily there had been a light snowfall earlier in the week that made the area look festive without adding the hassle of snow removal to the itinerary.  
  
The boys all hauled their food into the cabin. Four of them were carrying normal plastic shopping bags full of cans and jars and boxes of food gathered hastily in a late-night shopping trip the day before, whilst Jason lugged in four large fabric bags with random weird shapes poking out the sides.  
  
“I’ve spent two days tracking down every farmer’s market in the LA area,” Jason said, smacking Howard away as he attempted to look into one of the bags. “You’ll see what I found at dinner tomorrow.”  
  
Jason had agreed to take on the turkey itself, interested in making sure that it was free-range, chemical free and low-fat. Howard, interested in staying as close to possible to him - not the least because he knew that Jason would end up taking over his cooking also - was in charge of the cornbread dressing. Gary was supposed to make side dishes like mashed potato, cranberry jelly and some weird concoction called green bean casserole that he’d looked up online. Finally, Mark and Rob volunteered to make desserts, mainly because they were interested in keeping them as unhealthy as possible.  
  
However, things did not get off to the best start very early Thanksgiving morning. Jason, knowing that he would need to get the turkey into the oven as soon as possible to have it fully cooked by lunchtime, went into the kitchen to find that his turkey was not nicely chilled and defrosted in the refrigerator, but instead frozen solid in the freezer.  
  
Gary, awoken early by the call of nature, heard the torrent of loud cursing in the kitchen and discovered Jason angrily pummeling the frozen bird, as if beating it would force it to magically defrost.  
  
“Ugh, sorry,” he said. “I think I saw Rob stick it in the freezer. He was worried that it would go bad otherwise.”  
  
“Of course it wouldn’t go bad!” Jason tried very hard not to yell. “It’s a refrigerator, not a blanket at a summer picnic. Overnight!”  
  
Gary shrugged.  
  
“Maybe if you prepare it now and stick it in, it will be cooked at lunch?” Gary said. “You could put the heat up on it and make it cook faster.”  
  
Jason was dubious on the idea, but couldn’t see any alternative. It’s not like he was in London and could just pop down to Waitrose for something else. So he did his best to attempt a brine for the turkey, finally realized that it was useless, and finally put it in the broiler to begin cooking.  
  
By that time the other three had woken up and apprised of the situation by Gary, who advised them to steer clear of a still-steaming Jason. Particularly Rob, who suddenly decided that it might be a good time to take the two dogs he’d brought with him on a long walk in the forest with Mark.  
  
Howard, however, was brave. He joined Jason and Gary in the kitchen whilst Gary attempted to decipher directions and Jason moaned that Gary had brought canned green beans instead of fresh.  
  
“So, Jay, since you’ve already sorted the turkey can you help me figure out what to do with this dressing thing?”  
  
Jason looked like he wanted to take all his frustrations on Howard. However, he realized that the turkey fiasco wasn’t his fault, and that if he wanted edible cornbread dressing he would need to be part of the preparation of it. So he nodded.  
  
“I found a recipe online,” he said. “We need to stew some chicken first. You use that both in the dressing and the giblet gravy with it.”  
  
“What’s a giblet?” Gary asked.  
  
“Gaz, you really don’t want to know,” Jason replied.  
  
It turned out that Jason and Howard made a pretty good cookery team. Where Howard lacked in precision with ingredients, he made up for that in enthusiasm and speed. So as Jason measured ingredients, Howard chopped vegetables, poured cornbread batter to bake and added the measured herbs to the dressing concoction, as well as stirred gravy.  
  
In the meantime, Gary finally figured out what needed to go in the green bean casserole and slowly got it together. He finished at about the same time that the dressing was ready to bake, leading to another issue.  
  
“We only have one oven, and the turkey’s taking up most of it,” Jason said. “We don’t have room for everything.”  
  
They decided that it would be smarter to cook the dressing and leave the green bean casserole for later. And since they were all weary of cooking, they decided to check out another Thanksgiving tradition.  
  
“So this is what Americans call football,” Jason stated as they stared at the television screen. “Funny that I wore all of those jumpers and hats with team names on them in the ‘90s and this is the first I’ve seen of it.”  
  
“You really haven’t missed much,” Howard said. “Look how much padding they wear. And helmets. Wusses.”  
  
A play started and the players on both sides collided with each other, three players throwing the other team’s quarterback to the turf. The three men winced.  
  
“I guess that’s the reason for the helmets,” Gary said. “That looks painful.”  
  
“And they do this over and over?” Jason asked.  
  
“Oh please, that’s nothing,” Howard insisted. “I’ve seen rougher conduct on the commons back in Manchester. We should try giving this a go ourselves. I think I saw a ball in the closet.”  
  
“You have to be kidding,” Jason said. “None of us have a clue how to play this. The ball is completely different from ‘real’ football. And they barely ever kick it!”  
  
“I’m sure that Rob knows all about it,” Howard said. “He’s lived here for years and keeps making up these weird sports in his garden. He can show us the basics when he gets back.”  
  
“We’re ba-a-ck!” Rob chimed as if on cue. He and Mark walked into the living room, unclipping the dogs from their leashes so that they could run around.  
  
“Just in time!” Howard said. “Rob, do you know how to play American football?”  
  
“Not well,” Rob admitted. “It’s a wuss sport. They wear pads!”  
  
“Told you!” Howard interjected.  
  
“But I did learn a bit from an NFL player who used to hang out on my pitch with some of the boys,” Rob continued. “He showed me how to throw and kick the ball properly. And I’ve watched enough on telly to know the rules. Actually brought a ball myself. It’s a holiday tradition here!”  
  
The five men ended up outside on the front lawn of the cabin, trying out various skills. After a bit of discussion about arm strength it was decided that Howard made a great candidate for quarterback, and after a tutorial by Rob on how to properly throw a football he was throwing perfect spirals at Jason, who was learning how to play the wide receiver position. In the meantime, Rob showed Mark how to kick the other football properly. As Mark happily practiced the perfect punt, Rob attempted to show Gary how to tackle.  
  
“This looks way too dangerous,” Gary commented, wincing as he saw put his body into position for a full-body tackle. “I have back problems as it is. And with us touring soon I can’t be taking a chance on breaking me neck.”  
  
“This is a fun friendly Gaz, not a full-on pro game,” Rob groaned. “No one’s going to let you go paralyzed.”  
  
“So you say,” Gary said. “You can’t predict what will happen once you get us started. We have a way of puncturing lungs and dislocating fingers.”  
  
“That’s Howard, all of those,” Jason called out, pointing at his mate.  
  
Howard threw Jason an extremely dirty look before aiming a spiral right at Jason’s abs.  
  
“Ooof!” Jason exhaled painfully.  
  
“Whatever,” Gary said. “I’m not taking any chances. I’m going to go check on the turkey. Rob and Mark, don’t you guys have some desserts to sort out?”  
  
“We have a plan,” Mark said evasively as he kicked the football up into the nearby treeline. He and Rob scrambled to find it. Gary left the other two tossing the ball between each other in companionable silence to check on the food.  
  
As soon as he got to the kitchen, he opened the oven. Billows of smoke began pouring out.  
  
“Oy, what is this?” he said as he peered inside. Reaching up, he got a kitchen towel and pulled out the dressing, yelping as he discovered that the towel didn’t properly take the place of an oven mitt and then groaning as he surveyed the blackened mess that was inside the baking dish.  
  
“Jay’s not going to be happy,” he muttered as he poked at the ruined dish, trying to figure out if any of it could be salvaged and quickly surmising that it was a lost cause. He carried it over to the trashcan, making sure to find a place to discard it underneath other trash as he hatched a plan to save the day, he hoped.  
  
\------------------------------  
  
A little while later Mark and Rob came into the kitchen after having given up on finding the lost football. They discovered Gary with his arms deep into a mixture of cornbread and other ingredients, looking very unhappy.  
  
“What’s up, Gaz?” Mark inquired. “I thought Jay was doing the dressing with Dougie.”  
  
“They were, but it got fucked up in the oven,” Gary said. “I think the temperature is screwed up in there. Not to mention the turkey is still frozen. Nice one, Rob.”  
“Better me freeze it wrong than for us to all get food poisoning,” Rob replied. “I think we all know how food poisoning can fuck stuff up.”  
  
“True enough,” Gary nodded. “Here to start baking things?”  
  
Rob and Mark started chuckling. Rob opened a cabinet door and pulled out some Whole Foods bags that Gary hadn’t seen before.  
  
“Already sorted, mate,” he said. “I talked Josie into doing a spot of shopping for us yesterday before we left. Here’s all the dessert we need.”  
  
Gary boggled as he saw Mark pull three kinds of pie and a chocolate cake out of the bags.  
  
“But you didn’t COOK them!” he said. “Jason is going to lose it when he sees those. He’ll say you cheated.”  
  
“Would you rather have things that professional chefs baked or things that two overpampered pop stars baked?” Rob inquired. “I haven’t done more than toast a slice of bread in 10 years.”  
  
Gary shrugged, conceding the point.  
  
“Besides, Jay won’t even notice once he figures out that the dressing on the table isn’t his,” Mark pointed out.  
  
“Whatever,” Gary said. “Just go ahead and set those up on the table on the back porch. Then you can help me with this.”  
  
By the time that Jason and Howard came back into the cabin, the three others had the remade dressing in the oven and were back watching the football.”  
  
“Isn’t the dressing done yet, Gaz?” Jason inquired. “It’s been in there forever. We need to get that green bean crap in the oven too.”  
  
“Still needs a few minutes, mate,” Gary said. “Don’t you worry. Sit down and I’ll make you a cuppa.”  
  
Jason was too winded after all of the football to notice that for once Gary was making him tea and that clearly something was rotten in a cabin in California.  
  
\-----------------------------  
  
An hour later, the jig was well and fully up.  
  
“What in the hell is this?!?” Jason shrieked. “This is not my dressing! My dressing had spices in it. And vegetables. This is just mashed cornbread!”  
  
“You meant OUR dressing, right?” Howard pointed out.  
  
“Yes,” Jason said through gritted teeth.  
  
“There was a bit of a mishap with your dressing,” Gary conceded. “I was just trying to save Thanksgiving by making another batch.”  
  
Jason looked torn as to whether he should thank Gary or throttle him. He settled for trying to cut into the turkey, which only added to his frustration.  
  
“It’s still frozen solid inside,” he said. “This is useless. It might be fully cooked sometime around Christmas at this rate.”  
  
He glared at Rob, who did his best to appear contrite.  
  
“So we’ve no turkey and no dressing,” Howard said. “What about the rest.”  
  
Everyone looked at the lone baking dish of green bean casserole, which had yet to be put in the oven, and everyone made the same face.  
  
“At least we have dessert!” Mark brightened.  
  
“We do?” Jason asked. “Have the baking elves got a secret kitchen hidden somewhere?”  
  
Rob and Mark ignored him and headed onto the back porch. Suddenly the others heard simultaneous yelps.  
  
“Bad dogs!” Rob scolded. “You are such bad dogs!”  
  
The others rushed onto the porch to find the remains of three pies and a cake on the floor, along with two custard-smeared and sheepish-looking dogs.  
  
Gary looked like he wanted to cry. The others just shook their heads.  
  
“Well, that’s that then,” Howard said. “Looks like we are now going to do the typical bachelor’s holiday meal now. Anyone know where the nearest Chinese is?”  
  
\------------------------------------------  
  
An hour and a half later, the five of them were in the living room with a large variety of takeaway containers around them. They were finally full.  
  
“It wasn’t my kind of a holiday meal for company, but it’ll do,” Jason conceded as he popped the last vegetable dumpling into his mouth.  
  
“It’s pretty good to me,” Gary said as he pulled the last bit of lo mein out of the container with his chopsticks. “And it’s pretty foolproof to just order it and pick it up. That’s what we’ve done best.”  
  
“It’s kind of fitting, this,” Howard said. “Think of how many takeaway meals we’ve shared, in how many countries?”  
  
“Too many,” Jason groaned.   
  
“But really not enough,” Rob said. “I missed a lot of those.”  
  
“But you’re not missing anymore,” Mark poked him and smiled. “That’s what I’m thankful for most. Isn’t Thanksgiving supposed to be about giving thanks?”  
  
“True enough, mate,” Rob smiled at Mark. “And I’m grateful to all of you for giving me my groove back. I can’t imagine what I would be doing without you guys around me.”  
  
“Probably holed up in your bedroom in LA playing Football Manager,” Howard said.  
  
“And I can’t imagine what I would be doing without you lot,” Gary said. “I’d probably still be at my estate in Cheshire, eating my feelings.”  
  
“If you were still eating your feelings, you’dve outgrown that estate,” Jay tried to poke fun.  
  
“And if we weren’t around you would never eat period,” Gary said in response. “You’d be too busy worried about what the muesli would do to your body, much less putting milk on it.”  
  
“I don’t think I’d be like that, but I also don’t think I would be very well at all, mentally,” Jason conceded. “I spent too many years roaming and searching for things that I could only find with you guys.”  
  
“You think?” Howard asked.  
  
“I know,” Jason said, staring straight at him. “I found what I needed 22 years ago in a club in Manchester.”  
  
“So did I,” Howard said back, putting an arm around Jason.  
  
“And without you four, I really don’t know where I would be after the drink issue,” Mark admitted. “I definitely was not well enough to face that on my own. But I never had to find out.”  
  
All four of the others softened as they heard Mark’s statement. Rob and Gary both took a hand and squeezed it.  
  
“We talked on tour about Take That becoming the Thank You band,” Jason said. “Now we’re just making a holiday out of it.”   
  
“Not a bad thing at all,” Gary said. “We have so much to be thankful for.”  
  
“And so much more to come,” Mark said. **  
**


End file.
